Dry, sandy, heaven
by Captain Reindeer
Summary: Vash the Stampede had something on his mind. Wolfwood- well he had something just as bad. He had Vash, and now Vash's troubles were his, too. VashxWolfy, fluff, slightly more interesting than my description. Mostly about plants and yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey folks~_

 _It's been a long time since I've even written, never mind posted anything here on good ol' Fanfiction. But for the last year I've been obsessed with Trigun, particularly... Vash and Wolfwood. Vash and Wolfwood, as they are adorable together._

 _I loves them so much 3_

 _So for the first time in a millenia I've decided to do me some writing! Vash and Wolfwood, being adorable. This is shipping, so obvious yaoi warning~_

 _I have a lot of theories/ideas that clash a little with the Trigun world. They still work well enough, and are aaaaallmost by the official lore. But I still have to warn that it's a slightly AU fic._

 _There's also an element (character, really) that doesn't exist in the series. For me, that's enough to make lose interest in a fic, but I promise you it's not some hidden self-insertion nor trying to piggyback on the series... It'll just make sense in the later chapter._

 _But! Back to Vash and Wolfy._

 _^_^ enjoy!  
_

* * *

It was a shitty day.

Another shitty day on this dirtball planet.

Wolfwood rolled his cigarette along his lips, mindlessly crunching the already mangled stick between his teeth. Another shitty day that he got the pleasure of wandering down sun-scarred streets alone, with nothing but the weight of his cross to keep him company.

He hissed a cloud of smoke out between his teeth, toying with his cigarette idly in his fingertips before biting down on it again.

He was't quite sure why he was in such a bad mood today. Sure, Nicholas D. Wolfwood wasn't particularly famous for his good days, but usually he was pissed for a reason. Today it seemed everything just grated away at his mind like little pieces of intangible sandpaper. He blamed it on all sorts of things- the heat, the busy street, his burnt coffee... But he knew it was to do with Vash.

His long-time travelling companion has been acting particularly strange lately. Well, that wasn't out of character, Vash basically invented the word strange. But he wasn't his usual sort of strange. There was less goofy laughing, bad puns, flailing, singing, less of his usual ecentric ways. He'd become quiet and distant and reserved, the most animate he'd been lately was when he'd demanded they stop at this little backwater town.

Wolfwood didn't like it at all. It was not the Vash he'd come to know- it was not the Vash he'd fallen in love with.

He bit on his abused cigarette again.

Now that he thought about it, that was probably the reason for his sour mood- not the admission that he loved Vash, he'd figured that out a long time ago and spent so long beating himself up over the concept that it'd just become another pain he'd learned to live with- it was what had greeted him this morning.

Most mornings he was woken at the crack of dawn by Vash. Wolfwood was most certainly not a morning person, and if anyone else dared to wake him that early they would typically find themselves thrown out of a third-story window. But Vash had such an elegant way of dealing with the raging bull that was a drowsy Wolfwood. He was so cheery and painfully awake that he'd usually warrant himself a punch in the face, and yet Wolfwood couldn't help but smile that there was always a coffee sitting by his bed for him. It was entirely alien to the priest, and that was sorta why he enjoyed it, that Vash offered little gestures like that without even thinking...

But this morning he was woken by brisk breeze, one just cold enough to make him seek the comfort of his blankets again. When he'd finally peeled himself off of the bed he found the breeze coming from the open window of their shared room. Even Gunsmokes cheap hotels offered balconies, they were usually rusted metal rails and concrete slabs barely large enough to fit a person on, but Vash had still managed to perch on the precarious rail, one leg hugged to his chest and his gaze lost somewhere in the horizon.

He had his back to the priest, and Wolfwood considered going to him. He almost did. But he backed out and snuck from their room as quickly as he could. He'd always known Vash was troubled, but he'd always known him to hide it too. When something started to leak through the cracks of Vash's strong resolve.. Wolfwood knew it was something too serious for him to know. He simply didn't _want_ to know- he had enough problems of his own.

It made him feel like a coward.

He'd wrestled for months and months about how he felt about Vash, finally admitting to himself that maybe he loved the fool... And then he'd just run from him like that.

Another cigarette, the last had burned to the end of its life.

He had so many problems of his own, adding someone elses shouldn't hurt too much. He should have just gone to Vash, should have put his arms around his waist and kissed him, and told him to be happy... Like he deserved to be.

But he was scared. He hated admitting that too, fear. He was scared that Vash would push him off, or he'd have a giganic silver gun digging in to his stomach, or that Vash would look at him the way that he looked when Wolfwood aimed his own gun at a beating heart.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and shook that memory away. In all his thoughts and all his walking he'd somehow circled the entire town and had managed to arrive at the hotel. He butted his quickly-shrinking cigarette in an ash tray as he traversed the tables on the balcony, needing to just be in the same room as Vash again.

Chances are Vash would still be oddly quiet, and that'd only make Wolfwoods mood worse, but he still hoped his partner was still in their room.

And it was a comfort to find that he was. Wolfwood sighed quietly and closed the door loudly enough to announce his presence, then collapsed unceremoniously on his own bed.

The gunman was in perfect view from Wolfwoods bed. He didn't look very comfortable on top of that thin metal rail, and the way he sat implied he'd been there for a while. Thinking that he'd been there all day was a depressing thought. Wolfwood frowned.

"You eaten anythin' yet?"

There was silence, and Wolfwood wondered if Vash hadn't heard him. But that wasn't likely, even with the quiet bustle of the street outside their shady room it was a near-perfect day, except for the heat, it was quiet and calm. Vash shifted slightly, not quite looking over his shoulder but enough of the motion that it implied he'd heard the priest.

"Nah." Was all he said in reply.

It made Wolfwood a little awkward, he wasn't used to this indifference from Vash. He scratched his cheek absently then spoke again.

"You wanna grab somethin'?"

Another silent moment.

"Nah."

The heat, the children trying to trample him, the glares he got from morons he passed in the street- none of that compaired to just how much that single word pissed Wolfwood off in that moment. He felt a familiar rage suddenly switch on deep inside his chest, one he'd only felt in Vashs company when the matter of morals came in to play, and he was suddenly furious.

"You wanna tell me what the hell is chewin' you up now?"

"... N...na-No."

And now he felt bad. Wolfwood rarely felt remorse for snapping at people- usually they brought it on themselves- but even though it was subtle he saw Vash recoil, his body tense, and heard the sadness in his voice.

He wished this hotel wasn't so strict on the no cigarettes policy. He desperatley needed one.

Not that it'd do any damage either, he'd taken to studying the ceiling above his bed and it was already discolored and covered with marks, the paint peeling in more spots than it stayed.

Metal creaked from the balcony, Wolfwood glanced at its source. Vash now sat sideways on the rail, his back against the door frame. He was watching Wolfwood, his eyes filled with the sadness that he rarely let show. It tore the priest up inside, and he quickly pretended the wall beside his bed was more interesting. He could still feel Vash watching him.

The balcony creaked unhealthily again, and Wolfwood turned to Vash as he heard his heavy boots meet the floor gently.

Vash was smiling. Wolfwood was usually indifferent to Vash's fake smiles- they fooled other people, and that sufficed for the both of them. But he was trying so hard to pretend he hadn't spent all morning sitting in a ball of angst that Wolfwood felt a scowl forming on his face.

"I am kinda hungry, you wanna get some food?"

"Nah." Wolfwood smacked himself inwardly for that response. He stood suddenly and stepped towards Vash, quickly enough that Vash looked startled for a moment but quickly hid it again. "I want you to tell me what your deal is."  
The smile faded for a moment, Vash eyed the priest warily, looking him up and down like he was searching for any potential attacks Wolfwood could make. He considered the request, then smiled again.  
"Whaddya mean?"  
Yeah, he really needed that cigarette.

"If it's a secret, Vash, how about a trade."

The wary look was back again. "A trade?"

This time Wolfwood forced a smile, one that promised Vash he was just playing along in some bizzare game. "Yeah, a trade, If it's a secret... You tell me and I'll tell you somethin' of mine. We've been travelling together this long it's really about time we learned somethin'."  
He was expecting Vash to mirror his optimism, he usually did, but he still looked cautious instead. Wolfwood was hoping he'd play along even if he wasn't planning to give up what had put him in this mood, he'd be glad to get any information out of the blonde- he really didn't know all that much. And he was sure Vash didn't know much about him.  
Vash squirmed, the way he did whenever he was nervous. One hand rubbed uncomfortabley at the back of his neck and he glanced away from Wolfwoods gaze and back again. Wolfwood tried not to smile at his behaviour.

"S'my sister, she's in town here and... She ain't in the best way."

"You have a sister?" Wolfwood exclaimed, a little too surprised. Vash laughed and nodded.

"I have lots of sisters, Wolfwood. I have so many I have trouble remembering their names sometimes."  
"Really? I ain't ever met them have I? I don't remember you knowing too many girls that well."

Vash was awkward again, but still smiled. "Nah, you've never met them."

There was something unsettling about that fact, but Wolfwood couldn't place what. He brushed it off as he noticed the playfully sly look Vash was giving him.

"Your turn, Wolfwood."  
"What?"

"Well you said it was a trade, right? You gotta tell me something now."

Oh, right, it was also his turn to be nervous. He'd been so focused on getting something out of Vash that he'd forgotten that he'd have to give something back. There was a bit too much in his short history that he didn't want Vash knowing- ever- so that wasn't an option. Most of the remainder... He wanted to tell Vash in the right moment, when he was ready. In fact there was only one thing he currently wanted to confess, he was just too scared to.

He swallowed. It was pretty much the only option, and this was pretty much the best time. Vash watched him expectantly, impatience tugging at his lips as he tried not to frown at the priests silence.

Finally sighing in defeat, Wolfwood took a step closer. Vash looked him up and down again before giving him a bemused look, tilting his head in that adorable way that Wolfwood enjoyed seeing so much. One hand went to the sleeve of the red coat, fingers just lightly brushing the fabric. The other went to Vash's face and gently cupped his jaw. He was warm. The gunman tensed all over, eyes wide as Wolfwood inched closer again, moving his face closer to his companions.

And then the priest scowled and pulled away, hands instinctively reaching into his pockets for his cigarettes and matches. Vash stood completely still, blinking in confusion.

"Do you have to look so fucking _terrified_ Vash. Christ." Wolfwood hissed angrily through the cigarette he now had clenched in his teeth. He struck a match hard enough that it nearly snapped and held it barely a centimetre from his cigarette. Fuck it- this was a worthy situation for breaking the hotels no-smokes rule.

"What were you going to do?" Vash sounded so innocently curious that Wolfwood could only bite his cigarette harder, stomping to the balcony.

"Wolfwood?" He heard Vash following his past footsteps, and he leaned as far over the balcony as was comfortable. Vash's company was almost always a comfort he actively sought, but now he felt like such an outright moron that he wanted to be as far as from him as he could get. Ideally in a mound of sand in the middle of the desert so he didn't have to face _anyone_ just yet. At least, Vash hadn't outright shot him. That was a positive.

"Nick?" He flinched at the sound of his first name, and how gently it was called. "What was that?"

A gust of smoke erupt from Wolfwoods lips. He tried to ignore the presence that was now beside him, but it was hard to ignore it when the balcony only just allowed one person to stand there. Vash was so close he could pratically feel the heat of his body.

"What do you think?" He growled out. Vash leaned casually on the railing, inching closer to get the priests attention. Wolfwood finally met his gaze with an ice-filled glare. Vash looked away, and everywhere else instead.

"Well it sorta looked- and kinda felt- like you were tryin' ta kiss me Nick..."

Try as he might, Wolfwood couldn't stop the hand that came up to his face, clawing his hands in his own black hair.

"It was stupid, Vash, forget about it. Let's just go grab a drink..."

Silence. He was hoping Vash would say something just to distract him from his uneasiness. He sighed angrily and looked at his companion, expecting some sort of reaction from him.

Vash was still quiet. His expression had shifted from the awkward curiousity from before, and he was frowning. He was _sad. Again._ And once again it made Wolfwood furious. What reason did he have to be sad over this? Was he pitying Wolfwood? Was he sad that Wolfwood could feel and act this way towards him? Hell, the priest thought that about himself- he didn't need Vash to think it too.

But he knew that was wrong. Vash would never judge someone like that. Whatever he was upset over must've been something else- and Wolfwood had the suspicoun that it wasn't some _one_ , but instead, _Vash_.

And suddenly Vash was smiling again, whatever personal debate he'd been having he must have won, or at least pushed aside for now.

"I wouldn't mind that."  
"Good." Relief. The cigarette was quickly ground into the ashtray balancing precariously on the rail. "My shout tonight, you pick the place."

As he turned to head back inside something caught his shoulder. He looked back to Vash's smiling face, a gloved hand sitting firmly on the priests jacket.

"No, not the drink. I meant the kissin' part."

Wolfwood felt his jaw crack, he was lucky it hadn't fallen to the balcony at his feet because the force probably would've torn the rickety old slab from the wall. Vash couldn't be _serious._

While he was completely perplexed and apparently useless, Vash took the initative. His other hand went to Wolfwoods hip as he stepped closer, cautious, until their bodies pressed together. He waited for a reaction but was only met with the same stare, he took that as an invitation and gently brought his lips to Wolfwoods.

It was soft and gentle, barely any pressure as their lips touched. For someone that was usually so eccentric and passionate, Vash sure was a shy kisser. The sensation seemed to awaken all of Wolfwoods senses at once and his arms wrapped around Vash's body before he'd even registered that he could move them again. His hand slid up the back of the gunmans neck and pressed him closer, the sudden movement made his partner jump but he relaxed again instantly, following Wolfwoods lead with sudden courage.

Somehow they'd found themselves against the balcony railing, out of breath and wide-eyed as they watched each other. Bodies alive with electricity and lips wet and tender. Vash laughed, so spontaneously that Wolfwood actually flinched- then he laughed quickly too, one hand gently stroking Vash's hip.

He'd never have known that Vash would react so nicely, but he sure was happy now. It certainly was an improvement on what had started as a shit day- and it was barely even midday. He hadn't even had lunch yet.

He'd forgotten about that part.

"So. Lunch?"

Vash smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm starved- though I don't think any place can serve something anywhere as nice as your flavor... Nick."

Wolfwood scoffed. "Now how'd I guess you'd be a terrible flirt? The attempt's cute Vash but you have got to work on that."

The gunman simply shrugged in the embrace. Reluctantly he peeled himself away and squeezed past Wolfwood and back into the room. The priest readied pulled a fresh cigarette from his pocket and paused, then tucked it away again. Vash was right, he didn't want to lose the taste on his lips any time soon. Plus, he was getting kind of low on inventory.

Somehow Vash had spread his few belongings all over his side of the room, and somehow he'd found his wallet in all the chaos. He was quickly at Wolfwoods side, victorious, and with the energy he usually sported.

"And after lunch." Wolfwood pulled his own wallet from his pocket- he wasn't very organised himself, but he faired better than Vash- and satisfied with the money content he tucked it away again. "After lunch, we're gunna say hi to that nice sister of yours."

He smirked at Vash. Vash did not smile back.

 _Chapter two is already written up, I've just got to type it out and it'll be following soon! Thanks for reading!_

 _3_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey folks ^_^_

 _So this was originally two separate chapters, but the first of the two was making me cranky because the ending was sloppy and the second half was kind of rubbish, so I just tacked the first half on to the second of the two chapters- now we have one! one that reads a little better and doesn't have dumb things happening! yay for reindeer!_

 _and we meeteth vash's sister._

 _enjoy~!_

* * *

"How much do you know about plants?"

Wolfwood swallowed a mouthful of his food, shrugging at the man sitting beside him.

"Can't say I know too much. I know they power the cities and that's about it."

Vash reclined in his chair. The restaurant sat on the corner of two streets, and from their table on the veranda he had a perfect view of the entirety of the little town. The gigantic glass plant loomed over the town, dwarfing it by almost three times the height of the tallest building.

"And I heard that it's spectacular site when those things shatter."

Wolfwood gestured to the plant with his knife. Vash winced.

"Like dropping a giant lightbulb."

"Don't be so casual about that, Wolfwood."

"What?" He swiped a chip from Vash's near-finished plate and popped it in his mouth. Vash gave him a slightly forlorn look, and for a moment Wolfwood wondered if he'd wanted that particular chip. Vash was pretty attached to his food. But he quickly realised a more obvious reason. "Oh. Vash they have backup power, the town would be safe if something happened to the plant."  
"It's not that."

Vash was staring at the distant plant again. Wolfwood never much liked seeing him frown, and after their morning... revelation, he felt oblidged to cheer the typhoon up. He took a swig of his drink- the waitress hadn't thought much of a priest buying a bottle of Wild Turkey at midday, but he needed something to wash away the gritty residue of undercooked chips and the foul taste of Thomas steak, engine cleaner was great for that- and he leaned back in his chair to match Vash's posture. Not completley though, he wasn't sure he could mimic the child-like way Vash sat, with one leg propped on his chair and his torso twisted, almost uncomfortably, to lean on the verandas railing.

A hand reached for Vash, hovering over his leather-clad thighs. Wolfwood quickly lost his nerve and with an angry sigh he moved his hand away again, taking another mouthful of whiskey instead.

Vash smiled, crossing his arms on the balcony and resting his head there. The gesture was appreciated, at the least.

"Plants are alive, Nick."

Wolfwood gave him a queer look over his dark sunglasses, frowning. "Alive? You mean to tell me those giant fishbowls are some sort of critter?"

"Not the glass." Vash exclaimed like it was completely obvious. Which, really, it was obvious. _Glass_ wasn't alive. But, Wolfwoods choice of words wasn't really a terrible way to explain it. "They sorta are... Fishbowls, I guess. The glass is the tank and the plant lives inside it."

The priest scoffed and poured another glass. "What about when we were in Macca city? Gasback stole their entire plant. That damn thing rolled straight past us- there wasn't anything in it."

Vash shrugged, his reasoning made perfect sense in his own mind. "That's 'caus you couldn't see it."

"Vash, it's clear _glass_ , if there was something in there it wouldn't be able to hide."

"They don't work like that, Nick."  
"Then what? They're invisible? Some kinda ghost? You know I can put up with your usual kinda crazy, but saying this outloud is makin' me worry for you."

"How sweet." Vash mocked, waving his companion away with one hand. With the speed he was renowned for, he was suddenly out of his chair and standing over Wolfwood, hand now offered for him to take.

"Come with me." He sounded a little too serious for Wolfwood to trust.

"Why? Where exactly are you plannin' to take me?"

"Ever been inside of a plant?"

"You mean those invisible living things?"

"So that's a no?"

"No." After a moment of digging in his pockets, Wolfwood found a lone cigarette, all crooked and bent from being forgotten for so long. It was still a relief to find he had one left and it was quickly lit. "On real quiet nights I can hear the buzzing from across town, keeps me awake. Always kinda assumed I'd get a headache if I got too close."

Vash smiled sweetly and grabbed Wolfwoods sleeve, pulling the reluctant man from his chair. "Here I thought you always had a headache, s'why you're always such an ass."

"You are my headache, Vash."  
"Right back at you, _honey._ "

The plant loomed over the city like an imposing glass guardian. The closer they got and the larger it became, the more Wolfwood felt that it was glaring down at him, the core watching him like the eye of a predator.

It felt like a termite mound.

Every corridor was narrow and the ceiling boxed the two men in like a trap. There were doorways everywhere they looked, and even more that they failed to notice.

Wolfwood was thankful he'd never had to navigate through a plant without Vash. Every path twisted and turned like they were alive, seemingly leading the pair in an endless loop.

But it appeared Vash knew the layout like he had a written map in his hands- or, was completley lost, and simple really convincing. That was quite a possibility. He turned down metal corridors that Wolfwood would have never seen- the dark steel halls played tricks with his eyes, even when he was looking closely- and every door he encountered was conveniantly unlocked. He even lead the priest through a cavein of pipes that obstructed their path.

The tubes were thicker than Wolfwoods cross, and unnaturally warm beneath his hands. They hummed quietly with energy.

Midway through pondering how metal could radiate warmth, hands took hold of his shoulders and wrenched him quickly to one of the walls, pressing him into a dark corner before he was even aware that Vash had grabbed him.

The gunman quickly followed him, pressing his back to the cool metal as voices echoed down the hall, silencing the priests protest before he could even form them.

Plant technicians. The ancient technology that sorrounded them was very poorly understood, even by Gunsmokes brightest minds, but their was one known fact- their needed to be someone operating them. Just as the city needed the plants to keep the lights on and heaters running, the plants needed someone to keep them error free. If not, the arms that suspend them would often break and shatter the plant- or in the worst case scenarios, the plants would kick into overdrive and create a crater big enough to be seen from the moon.

Very few people knew even the basics of the life-giving structures, and the slightest error could wipe out the entire system. Visitors and tourists were not welcome.

The sound passed and Wolfwood felt his partner relax against his side. However, Vash did not resume their little adventure and he leaned against the wall, unmoving. Glancing at him, Wolfwood found him staring silently in the direction they had been travelling, brow furrowed and lost in thought.

"What is it?"

Vash flinched at the barely audible question. He turned to Wolfwood with a look of surprise that implied he'd forgotten he was there. He never acted very observant, but Vash's continous absence was starting to become a real concern.

The gunman watched him cautiously, expecting a reaction to a thought he'd yet to voice. They both became aware of the increasingly tense silence and Vash began to fidget, taking a step backwards without even acknowlding his action.

"I dunno if we should be doin' this, Wolfwood."

"Y'dragged me all the way here to say that?" the preacher growled, tucking his hands into his pants pocket. His fingers found the familiar shape of a cigarette and his excitement distracted him for a moment- maybe he ought to finally admit that he had a problem.

"Sorry." Vash smiled nervously, tapping the tips of his fingers together. "I just never shown anyone this before."

"I feel honored." Wolfwoods sarcasm never failed to amuse. "I'm sure it aint that big a deal, Vash."

"Bigger one than you think, just make sure you don't run scared of me, okay? Promise you ain't going anywhere, I've only had a boyfriend since this morning afterall."

"Boyfriend." The priest snickered. The meaning of Vash's words registered and he fixed the man with a serious stare, one that _promised_ that Vash would answer his question. "What exactly would make me 'run scared'?"

The stampede averted his gaze, slowly resuming his pace down the long hall.

"Like I said... It's a big deal." He frowned at the priest over his shoulder. "Kinda a secret of mine, I guess. A pretty big one... Actually, I don't think anyones known since..."  
He trailed off, steps slowing as he lost himself in thought again. Wolfwood tried to continue the sentence for him.

"Since?"

The look that crossed Vash's face cut straight into Wolfwoods chest like a blade. He knew Vash to look like one of the saddest people he'd ever encountered, even if he only rarely let it show, but the current expression he wore made his bad days look like pure happiness in comparison, complete with sunshine and rainbows. Wolfwood couldn't bare to hold the gaze- he looked to the block letters painted on the corridor wall instead.

"Rem." It was barely a whisper, Vash looked forward again. Wolfwood did not pry any further.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard that name.

They finally came to the end of a hallway. A heavy metal door blocked their progress. It was at least a foot thick, with a gigantic metal bolt as the handle and the lock. The humming was louder now, one not unlike the sound of a generator or a machine- the sound of electricity. It came from behind the door, but the only glimpse at its source was through a book-sized window, too clouded by age to see clearly through.

Vash reached for the bolt and hesitated, to Wolfwoods surprise he was shaking ever so subetly. Was this really that big a deal?

He looked to the priest, both for reassurance and to be sure he was still there. Vash had sort of hoped that Wolfwood would back out and demand that they leave- but he had a reason for revealing this part of himself. As selfish as it made him feel, he needed Wolfwood to understand, just for the sake of his own sanity. It had been centuries since he'd trusted anyone enough... And if the mornings events were anything to go by, he planned to share the rest of the mans mortal life with him. He may as well learn now...

The bolt creaked and groaned like it hadn't moved in centures, the sound amplified by the narrow metal hallway, so furiously that it felt tangible. The door was no less quiet as Vash dragged it open, metal screeching on metal.

The sight it lead to... Was confusing.

Round metal rods lined the large room ahead, resembling grey spikes of grass. Some reached the tall roof, some barely came to Vashs shoulder. Cables were draped betwen them like cobwebs.

In the direct middle of the area, suspended by more cables and rods, was a completely circular glass orb.

"What is that?" Wolfwood couldn't help the question, he was a bit sick of seeing round glass things and being promised their mystery.

"The core." Vash replied casually, as if he'd been asked what was for breakfast.

"What? You mean the core of the great ugly lightbulb?

Vash shook his head. "The core of that core."

"How in the hell did we get in here? I couldn't even _see_ a way to reach it."  
"We walked?"  
Wolfwood scowled and turned his attention to the orb. It stood far taller than he did, and it was raised a good metre than that from the ground. He circled it, looking closely for anything interesting but found it completely empty. No more than a giant glass bubble.

"So," he dawdled back to Vashs side. "Where is your spooky-" raising his hand for emphasis on the word, Vash laughed "-invisble mystery friend?"

Instead of answering the question, the typhoon stepped to the orb. Careful, as though it would shatter from the contact, he pressed his palms against the glass. The orb sat at the ideal height for him to press his forehead against it and he closed his eyes.

Wolfwood was extremely confused, he'd asked to see the "living" plant, not see Vash hug the thing. Just as he opened his mouth to ask Vash what the heck he was doing a blinding white light erupted in the orb, glowing so fiercly it stung to look at.

Slender fingers became visible in the light and moved for the hands pressed againts the outside glass. The light quickly began to subside, and after his eyes adjusted to the lack of burning light, Wolfwood could see a figure mimicing Vash's pose, floating in the middle of the orb. Apparently, whatever it was defied gravity.

The gunman smiled at the face barely inches from his, seperated by the glass. He leaned back and looked to the priest, studying his reaction.

"Nick," his unsurity was clear in his voice. Wolfwood only tossed him a quick glance before looking at the figure again in awe. "Meet my sister."

Now that was hard for the priest to handle. He stepped backwards in a daze, and Vash visibly flinched, worry adorning his face. The plant- if that was what he was meant to call ... her, was watching him now. Her eyes glowed a piercing white-blue, and he felt like he would burn up under her gaze.

"Nick?" Vash's voice called from somewhere Wolfwood couldn't pick. He was suddenly painfully aware that he was pretty much frozen, from the alarmed expression he wore to the stiffness of his fingertips. He also realised just how much he must be _terrfying_ Vash. The poor guy had already confessed his insecurity to the priest, he also read too much into peoples actions and words. Finding control again, but unable to look away from the plant, he forced himself to swallow the stuck sensation in his throat to remind his body that he was the one piloting it.

"Vash." He managed a sound, his partner relaxed noticeably thanks to the acknowledgement. The sensation of the plants stare on him and the knowledge that the creature was out of his view was too much for Wolfwoods anxiety to cope, and he quickly looked to her again. It wasn't a comfort to stare into eyes that glowed with raw power, but it sure was better than having them in your blind spot.

Now that he looked at her... She _did_ resemble Vash. Sort of. At least, as much as she could under all her other worldly traits.

The edge of her face was speckled with tiny down-like feathers, flecked here and there like spots. Her hairline was dotted with longer ones, an elegant frame. Her hands- clawed noticeabley at the fingertips and adorned with little feathers- contrasted a soft white blue color against Vash's leather gloves, her skin like smooth marble. Feathers continued down her arms, increasing in size as they approached her elbows. They followed the same pattern along her legs and her shoulders. And, she was butt naked. Wolfwood tried to ignore that part.

The part he had sucessfully ignored- and now only finally registered- was the gigantic mass behind her.

"Wings." It was barely audible, a word caught on his awed breath- it was all he could muster, too ensnared in the questions and exclamations of his own mind to be coherent. _Wings._ Closer to snow white than her tinged skin, and tipped with feathers even longer than her body- _Angel_ wings.

They gave him a headache to look at. They shimmerred subtley with glowing energy, and moved as though they were caught in a gentle tide. The longer he tried to focus on the shape of a single one, the more it changed in front of him. Morphing just to strain his eyes.

The plant turned to Vash again. He looked thoughtful for a moment them simply shrugged, replying to unsaid words.

Free of her stare, Wolfwood finally found control again. He half stumbled to Vash's side and gave the man a bewildered stare.

"I guess... I see where you get your strange personality." He was not impressed by how feeble his voice sounded- he cleared his throat. Vash just laughed.

"So... Your sister, huh?" was the most intelligent thing he could muster. He had far too many quetions to ask, but the first was that Vash was _related_ to this creature. The concept snapped together in his mind so suddenly that he almost heard the sound of it coming together- it made him recoil and he fixed Vash in his startled gaze.

"Wait- does that mean you're whatever she is?"

He looked hurt. Nodding slowly in reply. "Yeah- well, mostly."

"Y'know I usually just joked when I said you weren't human. If you wanted me to stop, you didn't have to go to this kinda length..." He jested, but Vash still frowned.

"I like thinkin' I am, Nick. Human, that is. I am still a little... But mostly..." He looked at the plant forlornly.

"So is that why you don't look like her? You're a _little_ human?"

The typhoon shook his head again. "You didn't even know she existed 'caus our... race, I guess- is so good at hiding. I can't disappear completely like she can, but wherever there's power, wings and feathers and such, it's concentrated. I can hide those."

"You have wings?" Wolfwood exclaimed a little too loudly, and a little too impressed. He followed it with a snicker. "And feathers? You some kind of pigeon, Vash?"

Vash did not appreciate that, and it just made the priest laugh.

Electricity crackled at the top of the glass and a spark travelled at an alarming speed, Vash only _just_ tore his hands away from harms way before the spark reached where they had been resting. The wayward spark spluttered and died where his hands had been- like its sole purpose was to reach him.

Vash gave the plant an uncharacteristically icy glare- she returned it without hesitation.

"What was that?"

Vash dismissed the priests question with a shake of his head. After a pause, gloves grasped Wolfwoods wrist and lead his hands to the glass, he pulled against the grip just before contact.

"I ain't gunna get zapped, am I?"

"Nah."  
"But you almost did."

"I'm made of those sparks, Nick. I'm basically a grounding rod- they're out to get me."

"Alright. But, if I die, I'm coming back to haunt your ass." He growled and let his hand be lead to the glass, against the hands that the plant still rested there. Timidly he touched his fingertips to hers.

He could feel the heat of her body through the glass. It was unreal, and a final confirmation that she was a real living _thing._ It calmed him. Knowing that she was... Not all that different to a human in a way, instead of some living ball of energy ripped straight from a sci-fi flick.

He pressed his other hand against hers and she smiled. A sweet smile- one that resembled Vashs.

"She don't talk much, does she?"  
"Not to you. She hears us, but only I can hear her."

"Selective talking." Wolfwood mocked. "How's that work?"

"We're all, uh, linked, I guess, I can talk to her 'n she can talk to me. Even if I'm on the other side of the planet."

"You mean like telepathy? Vash, that stuff ain't true."

The typhoon simply pointed to his sibling.

"She has wings."  
"Point taken."

Plant and human watched each other curiously. Her glowing eyes were becoming less intimidating as Wolfwood stared at them. As though hearing his thought, she closed her eyes and leaned forwards, pressing her forehead against the glass the same way she had done with Vash earlier. The priest gave his companion a questioning glance, and Vash simply smiled reassuringly- so with a shrug, Wolfwood mimicked her. Copying the same stance that the siblings had shared before.

An unnatural warmth began to ebb in his fingertips, spreading through his nerves like a viscous fluid. It began to spread rapidly down his arms and through his chest, paralyzing every molecule it ecnountered. It washed into his mind like lava and Wolfwood found himself _trapped_ there. His body frozen and unwilliing to obey him, his physical senses limited entirely to his own head- crushingly claustaphobic- and the feeling that _something else_ was in his mind with him. It felt hauntingly like something he'd experienced before. A sole reminder of one single thing.

Legato.

It was terrifying.

And then it withdrew, washing away as calmly as it had come like a warm breeze. Panic subsided, dying along with the invasive feeling in his body. The plant retreated too, leaning back far enough that she could inspect him.

Wolfwood managed to surpress his gasping- his body unsure of how it was meant to automate now that he controlled it again- but he could not hide the shock in his eyes. He pulled his hands away from the glass like it was a stovetop burning his skin. Vash frowned when the priest turned to face him.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Uh... She was lookin' in to your mind. Sorry Nick- I didn't know humans reacted so bad to that..."

Wolfwood shuddered, burying a hand in his hair. Yeah- he'd definetly felt that sensation before from Legato.

Oh. Shit.

"She looked into my _mind_? What does that mean?"

Vash fidgeted and cracked a nervous smile. He hadn't exactly asked permission for that little ordeal- whatever anger he'd earned was deserved.

"Lookin' at memories 'n stuff. She can't exactly ask, so..."

He shrugged.

"What did she find."

"She didn't say anything."

He managed to surpress the relief, but Vash had already caught on.

"... Was she meant to find something?"

"No." He slapped himself mentaly- nothing says suspicous like answering too fast. "I'm just all on edge now, Vash, I wasn't quite expectin' to have someone poking around in my skull. Can't say I ever want it happening again."  
Vash gave him an apologetic look. He wouldn't have let that go ahead if he'd known Wolfwood would react so badly. He'd never tried that trick on a human before. But he could have at least warned him...

Stepping closer, Vash touched his fingers to the front of Wolfwoods jacket. He moved with the same delicateness as he'd treated the plant, like Wolfwood was some volatile substance that would combust beneath his fingers, and ghosted his hands to his partners side where his palms finally made contact.

He was warm too, Wolfwood noted. Unnaturally warm, but not uncomfortable- the opposite, actually.

His hands moved up Wolfwoods side to his chest, and then pulled the priest into a hug. Wolfwood was not a very cuddly person but he quickly returned the gesture. Vash most certainly _was_ that type of person, and he made contact where ever he could, getting as close as possible, his coat buttons gently pressed against the skin bared by Wolfwoods half open shirt. He buried his face between the priests neck and shoulder, sighing quietly as he relaxed. Practically oozing against his body.

It was... Intoxicating. Just how powerfully it affected Wolfwood.

The man in his arms radiated heat that completely consumed every nerve of his body, soothed every sensation so all he could feel was warmth and the presence of Vash.

The reality of the situation slowly sank in to Wolfwoods mind, he finally realised- truly- that this was _exactly_ what he wanted, why he'd struggled so much with Vash's company when they first met, and why he found himself fantisizing about the blonde fool.

And somehow, despite everything Wolfwood could have ever believed, Vash cared enough to comfort him. It made him hopeful that the typhoon did love him in return, that they weren't simply two lonely guys who'd found conveniance in each other.

And even if the latter was the case... In this moment, it didn't matter.

Right now, Vash was his.

He stroked his hand up the back of the red coat, brushing the hair at the nape of Vash's neck affectionately. Despite all the hair product and all the ridiculous spikes it formed, his hair was as soft as he imagined. Everything about Vash was soft and gentle. His reputation was a stark contrast to what he actually was. The worlds most feared outlaw was a big-hearted, crybaby, angel... Thing, with soft hair and warm skin, who nestled in his arms like a content kitten.

Wolfwood smiled.

At least, until he looked up. The plant was staring straight at him- an indifferent expression leering down from above, neither happy nor angry. It made all his defences bristle at once. He tried to surpress it, and held her gaze. Until he noticed her remarkabley long hair- and a major difference it had to Vash's.

"Hey Vash?"

The typhoon hummed against him, after some consideration- and with a lot of reluctance- he lifted his head to look at the priest.

"If you two are related, how come her hair's even darker than mine? It's pitch black."

Apparently, that was not a good question to ask, judging by the look the siblings shared.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey folks!_

 _So I wrote this one at 2am when I was meant to be cramming for an exam. And I have no spellcheck. And my proofreader has been asleep all day. So, this is full of typos, grammar errors and even bad spacing because word pad is a jerk with kerning. And I cannot see double spacing for the life of me._

 _And nice to meet you Lennie, you are my first fan 3 I'm writing this fic mostly for me but in part for a friend too, she's keeping me on the writing job- I try to get chapters out as fast as I can!_

 _Enjoy~!_

 _Edit: just realised that fanfiction doesn't show the less than sign, so every time a rogue 3 appears in my comments, it's meant to be a love heart. FANFICTION WHY DO YOU DENY MY LOVE._

* * *

He can't say he minded this.

The most Wolfwood usually got in the way of companionship was Vash's presence. When they weren't travelling together, he was simply alone. Even with his proffesion as a travelling priest he never got too chummy with people, he'd offer his services and move on, occasionally stopping to help a damsel in distress, some poor folk in need, or sweep a woman into his hotel room. People were just a short entertainment that he'd never encounter again, company for the day then gone forever. Except for Vash. Vash he'd find somewhere along the way, either by chance or intentially. Or the typhoon would find him, and check them both into a hotel- shared rooms, of course, he claimed it was to save money- and they'd spend their time drinking and rambling. It was in part due to Wolfwoods obligation- a contract he regretted more and more each day- but mostly because of his affection for the man. An affection that was made physical by their contact.

Wolfwood stumbled for his bed the moment it was in view, landing on his back with a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a content sigh. He thanked the high heavens that they'd passed a corner store on their trip back, and that he had enough coins left to trade for a new pack of smokes. Sure, he'd have to give up food for a few days thanks to a terrible condition called 'broke', but he was sure he could steal some of Vash's food... Assuming he had any money either.

Cursing quickly followed his collapse, as said smokes were tucked snuggly in his back pocket, the pocket he'd just fallen on. So much for keeping these ones intact.

Vash was oblivious to his partners destructive troubles. He'd bought himself a newspaper while Wolfwood was preoccupied with his nicotine adicction, and was now settling into a comfortable spot to read through it. Or at least, skip to the comics.  
His comfortable spot of choice was his partner.

Wolfwood nearly burned his fingertips with his lit match when Vash dropped onto his bed, sitting just beside the priests knees. After a moment of annoyed fidgeting that made a nice crumple of fabric on Wolfwoods bed, Vash made a frustrated sound and grabbed the furthest leg from him, propped it up so the knee was bent, and leant against it like it were the back of a chair.

Wolfwood just stared in awe, the humanoid typhoon himself was on his bed, practically sitting between his legs. He yelped as his dying match nipped at his fingers.

Vash gave him a queer look as he unfolded the newspaper, scanned the front page for anything interesting. He hadn't actually looked at the paper when he bought it, and now he wished he hadn't had looked at all. The headline screamed danger like blood on the sand.

 **VASH THE STAMPEDE SIGHTED AT BALNALA.**

He held the newspaper for Wolfwood to see the headline. Balnala was one of the towns they'd passed through to get to their current residence, they'd been there barely a few days earlier.

Wolfwood let out a sigh of smoke and crossed his arms behind his head. If the townsfolk were aware that the legendary outlaw was nearby- or if any keen bounty hunters caught the news- it might just mean the pair would have to leave town soon. Or expect a gunfight. Likely, both outcomes at once.

Wolfwood did not much fancy the idea of running from a storm of bullets, _again._ But he didn't much fancy the idea of leaving the little hotel either. It wasn't anything special, the cheapest of the cheap, seedy places that existed in the town, all they could really afford. He glanced down at the warm body leaning against him, Vash was flicking through the pages at a lazy pace, flopped contently against Wolfwood with his legs crossed and dangling off the side of the bed in a lady-like fashion. The way Vash sat sometimes looked so uncomfortable- and his abiltity to cross his legs made Wolfwood sore to see. Somehow he still seemed comfortable.

Wolfwood didn't want to move him. He didn't want to move himself, either.

"Yer starin' at me, Nick."

Vash stared back. Wolfwood hadn't realised that he had actually been zoning out in the typhoons direction. He met his gaze.

"What're you thinkin' about this situation? With the newspaper?"

The paper crumpled quietly as Vash folded it, then tossed it at the round, lopsided table that jutted out near the door like an ugly boulder. The newspaper missed by a few feet and pages exploded spectacularly in every direction. Vash sighed in defeat and dropped against Wolfwoods legs, intertwining his fingers on his chest.

"Ain't gunna think about it, Nick."

"And when people start shoutin' 'oh my god it's Vash the stampede!' and I get shot, can I punch you?"

"Wouldn't that count as domestic abuse, now?"

"We ain't married."

"I still think it counts." Vash was silent for a moment. He slumped further against his partner, his whole body mirroring the dejected look he now had. "I don't want to go nowhere just yet, Nick. M'sister wants me stayin' close.. Just for a little while."

Wolfwood didn't respond, and Vash looked away from him again, staring at the opposite wall instead.

"Y'know I used to travel with a girl," He turned his attention back to the priest as Wolfwood started to talk, a light hearted tone in his voice. "A scary piece of work this one. She could beat the crap out of any man and drank anyone under the table-usually me."

He tried to rub away the memory of all the hangovers.

"Anyway, we once got the marshal called on us. 'Domestic dispute' the folks in the next room had said, I got so many dirty looks from people in the hotel when the marshal knocked on our door... But that weren't as embaressing as explaining, in front of everyone, that the crazy lady had been throwing her bottles at me."

Vash snickered. Somehow he wasn't surprised that Wolfwood wasn't the violent party. He seemed to have a knack for finding company in people more crazy than him- hell, Vash admitted he was probably the best example of that fact.

"She even got me, too." he rubbed his head tenderly, soothing another memory. "Smacked me right in the head, hurt like _hell_."

"Glass kinda hurts." Vash said in agreement. He meant to mock Wolfwood, but in truth he had plenty of experience with how much glass could hurt. Though, he'd never been hit with a bottle. He had plenty of them thrown at him but was smart enough to dodge.

"She was a crazy chick."

Wolfwood stared at the ceiling. The peeling paint and hairline cracks that adorned every cheap hotel were in no shortage here, but he hadn't noticed them. Too busy in thought, he covered his face with palm and sighed.

"Now that I think about it, I've had a _lot_ of crazy exes."

"You dated her?" Vash asked curiously, his full attention on his partner.  
"I dated a lotta girls, Vash." His hand moved to scratch his cheek awkwardly, and he found he couldn't meet the typhoons gaze when his next thought came to mind. "Hell, I've even had a uh... fling, I guess... with a fella' once. Wasn't nothin' serious though, I think I only saw him that one night- wasn't nothing like... This."

Vash blushed and he looked away too, resuming his staring contest with the opposite wall.

The silence started to get awkward, and Wolfwood fidgeted, his gaze going back to the the typhoon. "What about you, Vash?"

"Huh?" He stared at him again, and seeing Vash's subtle blush made Wolfwood feel a bit better. It meant he wasn't alone in feeling awkward about this topic- but since they were dating now he felt they ought to at least mention it.

"You ever dated a guy, before?"

Vash shook his head so hard Wolfwood was worried it might fly off. The typhoon brought his knees to his chest and looked away again, a clear indicator that there was something more to this than he was letting on. Wolfwood wasn't sure what to make of it, he could picture Vash with a man far too easily- his goofy ways and gawdy style made him a much more convincing boyfriend than, say, Wolfwood. But at the same time, Vash was so secretive and a master of dodging questions, and always so... alone, that it was also impossible to imagine him in any sort of relationship. Vash flirted with every woman he came in contact with, so poorly that most just laughed him off, but his looks alone ought to at least have earned him some trips to a womans bedroom.

"Vash... You ever dated a girl...?"

"Uh..." The typhoon drummed his fingers on the armor of his knees, turning back to the priest but not looking at him. "... No..."

That wasn't entirely hard to believe. With Vash's vagabond lifestyle and the ridiculous bounty on his head, most girls would turn down the idea of staying with him. Unless they were as crazy as Vash himself. Good thing Wolfwood basically was.

"You at least slept with one though, right?"

The blush was back with a fury. Vash could only look at Wolfwood in silence, and that was all the answer Wolfwood needed. That did not make it any easier to believe. Wolfwood never wasted much energy on admiring guys, but he still managed to notice that Vash was absolutely gorgeous. Even with his terrible ability to flirt he could easily win any girl over.

" _How?_ " was all the priest could manage.

"I got some reasons." Vash murmured. "But main one is I ain't really... That type of person, I guess."  
"What? _Gay?_ "  
"Not before!" He was a little too quick to answer. Hello, insecurity. "I mean- not until you, Nick. I just ain't one for... bein' with people like that."

"Ain't one for sex?" Wolfwood snickered at Vash's response to last word. Vash was really just a big kid... He was so embaressed about this topic that it actually made Wolfwood relax. Though he had not expected his new boyfriend to be a damned virgin. "What about kissin'? Tell me you're at least a little experienced, spikey."

"Spikey?" Vash raised an eyebrow.

"You're spikey now." Witty, fitting, and a little cute. Wolfwood was quite proud of his choice of nickname.

"Now I've gotta give you a nickname, too."

"Nick is a nickname."  
"Nu-uh. Ain't enough of one. It's just your name but short. People don't go around callin' me... Uh... V."

"That's exactly what a nickname is, Vash, yer name but shorter."

The typhoon was in silent thought for a moment. If ideas could be seen, then Wolfwood just saw one- through the transitition of surprise, excitement, and the smile on Vash's face. This did not bode well for him.

" _Wolfy._ " Vash nodded in approval.

"Wolfy? Really? Cantcha at least try to be creative?"

"You called me _spikey_."

"Spikey ain't your last name."

"It could be."

Feeling his veins pinching, Wolfwood just accepted defeat and plucked his stubby cigarette from his teeth. He reached to butt it out on the ashtray, but found the damned thing practically teetering on the end of his bedside table.

"Just answer my question, Vash."

He couldn't quite reach the edge of the table with Vash sitting on him, he reluctantly pulled himself out from beneath the warm body and snuffed his cigarette.

"What question?"

The movement wasn't actually that bad. His legs had been going kind of numb with all the pressure cutting off his blood, and it gave him the chance to readjust the way they sat together. He mirrored Vash's pose as he sat beside him, hooking his arm around the typhoons shoulders and pulling him back so they both leant against the wall. Vash happily accepted the new dynamic and slipped into the space against Wolfwoods body like he'd been made to exist there.

"About your _experience_ , spikey, just how far have you gotten with someone before? Like you at least fooled around with someone or was me kissin' you the only action you've gotten in your... what.. twenty-four years?"

"Closer to a hundred n' fifty..." Vash mumbled. Wolfwood hoped he'd misheard him. "I ain't _that_ bad, Nick, I'm not completely new to it."

"So... I was right about me being the only one ta' kiss you?"

Wolfwood only meant to jab at Vashs pride with that line, but the man hadn't reacted with his usual outrage. That could only mean that he was right. He sure was sick of being right about this topic... He was kind of hoping Vash had at least spent a little quality time with _someone_ , even having the sexual know-how of a high school kid would have sufficed.

But the idea of being the mentor to the humanoid typhoon on such a topic- that was an idea that had just occured to Wolfwood, and he was quickly excited about all the amazing things he would get to teach Vash...

... And Vash knew the priest had something foul in mind, judging by the increasing smirk his face.

He didn't get to question the madness of the mans mind, before he got the chance to speak Wolfwood had a hand holding his face, and not a moment later he had lips against his.

It always surprised Wolfwood just how quick Vash was to react. He had been boasting a little when he mentioned his past relationships, but he had a few partners that were completley new to the whole loving game. They were always slow and reluctant, never sure what to do in return when he made a move. Hands would dance around, unsure of where to hold, bodies stiff like wood and lips- well, they never knew what to do with those. Vash was the opposite. He was immediatley willing to explore, he pressed himself as close as he could possibly manage until the space between them simply ceased to exist. And the touching, Wolfwood revelled in Vash's eagerness to touch. His hands went everywhere he needed them, trailing up and down his back or squeezing gently at his sides. He wanted to touch _everywhere_ and Wolfwood was happy to let him.

But, just as he'd expected, Vash was bad at kissing.

Lucky for him Wolfwood was a keen and passionate teacher. Vash was like nothing he'd ever had the pleasure of enjoying. The taste of sweetness and something inherently Vash was simply addictive, his body moved on its own in search of more of the delicious taste- his tongue swiped along Vashs lips in slow movements, he kissed the gunmans jawline and ravished his lips. His skin was just as flavorsome, with the added taste of salt and sand. No partner Wolfwood ever had before left this effect on him. Vash was simply intoxicating, even the softness of his skin and warmth of his body sent Wolfwoods desire into a frenzy. He felt the gunmans body blindly, groping at muscles through his armor and coat, Vash practically purred into his mouth in return.  
He was learning quickly, Wolfwood noted, finding his partner was beginning to mimic his movements. Breathless and panting, Vash kissed him with increasing ferocity, his hand clawing in Wolfwoods black hair.

They'd survived on occasional gasps but the need for air finally became too strong and they were forced to stop. They watched each other in pure awe, wide-eyed.

That went extremely well. Wolfwood licked his lips, they were so tender they almost stung, and he was pleased to find he could still taste Vash on them.

The typhoon was smiling sweetly, he placed a quick kiss on the priests cheek then snuggled against him, resting his hands on Wolfwoods chest and his head in the crook of the mans neck.

The concrete wall jutting into his shoulders would usually be enough to ache, but it didn't phase Wolfwood, who was too content with this moment to care. He stroked Vashs hair gently, fingers stopping in the charcoal colored strands between his neck and his ears. They were a stark contrast to the sandy blonde- had his hair always been that color?

"Y'know spikey, you didn't answer my question before."

Gloved fingers were making little circles on his jacket, Vash paused his action as he considered the question, then began stroking along Wolfwoods collarbone instead. "Wolfy I think you just answered it for us. Besides, I already did."  
It was surprisingly hard to laugh with someones weight on your chest. "Not that one. We did a damn fine job of answering that- I meant the one I asked you back at the plant... You just ignored me."  
"I did? What did you ask?"

"'bout your sisters hair. Your hair's kinda black too... It wasn't like that when we met, was it...?"

"Uh... No," The fingers stopped completely. The hand that still stroked Vashs hair was gently pushed away. The gunman moved off his partner and sat between his splayed legs, frowning at Wolfwood. "ain't something I like thinking about much, 'specially with my sisters state..."

All these secrets were giving Wolfwood a headache. Everything obvious about Vash seemed to hide some hidden meaning. First it was invisible critters inside of glass, now it was the color of his damn _hair._

"Plants don't live forever, Nick."

Vash struggled with his thoughts for a moment, silent. Wolfwood waited patiently.

"I guess we're kinda like batteries in a way. We got so much energy in our bodies but it ain't infinite. The more of it we use, the darker our hair goes."

"And if you use it all?"

Vash looked at him with sudden fear. Like he'd just heard a gunshot for the first time, he bowed his head and clenched his teeth.

"We die, Nick, but... It ain't like humans. It ain't nice."

Wolfwood frowned. "Death isn't exaclty a nice thing, Vash."

"No," Vash shook his head, he still looked so scared. Wolfwood wanted to comfort him, but he feared any move he made would end their conversation. Silence never seemed to last with Vash if Wolfwood didn't react, and the gunman glanced away again as he continued. "I hate death, Nick. I hate the thought of losing- _anybody ._ The thought of dyin' myself, that's not such a great thought. But I am fucking _terrified_ of dyin' the way I'm meant to."

"Is it really that bad...?" He asked without thinking. Vash looked to him again, the shudder that moved through his body briefly was evidence that Wolfwood probably shouldn't have asked- going in to detail, even in thoughts, was enough to upset Vash even more.

"Worse than you could imagine, Nick. It's all suffering 'n pain n..." He locked Wolfwood in a haunting gaze, his eyes wide with the memories of things he never wanted to see. "Blood."

That was enough for both of them. Wolfwood quickly brought his arms around Vashs shoulders, drawing him back to rest on the priests chest. The gunman trembled in his hold, and he feared the likely chance that Vash would start crying.

"Don't think any more about it, spikey."

He felt guilty for asking. The best apology he could offer was to stroke the typhoons blonde hair as he held him against him.

Gloved hands fisted in his jacket, pulling the fitted fabric roughly enough that it groaned. Teeth clenched and his breath catching, Vash was struggling to keep his emotion under control.

"Her hair was pitch black, Nick..."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hai kids._

 _My semester's finally come to an end and I've now got a six week holiday ahead of me. But since it was the end of semester I had EVERYTHING due and EVERYTHING to hand in, so I didn't really get to writing too quickly._

 _I apologise in advance, this chapter is terrible. I rewrote it so many times, and this was the best version... It just got frustrating so I'm putting it up as is to get the story moving again. Don't expect too much :D_

 _next will be up soon to make up for it, I promise!_

 _Side note, if anyone has skype and would like to keep little ol' reindeer company sometime, please add me! My ID is , I am a creative kid. I will warn you that I like to bombard people with sketches of vash and wolfy together caus I'm not too terrible at drawing :D_

 _My ID is also posted on my profile, along with my dA account. Be mah fwends._

* * *

For once in his life, Wolfwood had slept through a sandstorm.

It had hit in the late afternoon. The only warning was an orange smog on the horizon, creeping along the sand like a great lazy marshmallow and enveloping everything in its path. The moment the wind started to pick up, the town was in a frenzy. Shopowners were rushing to get their goods in to safety, Thomas were led to their stables, children were ushered inside by their families, and Vash and Wolfwood were stocking up on enough alcohol to last the storms duration.

The night went quickly for the couple. They settled on Wolfwoods creaky single bed together- it was in no way superior to Vash's, and neither mattress could be considered any more comfortable than the wooden floor, but Vash had followed Wolfwood on to his and practically pinned the poor priest there. They drank and chatted, the more they drank the more they touched, and eventually they were silent. The alcohol seemed to make Vash more adventurous, and he'd finally got an understanding of the art of kissing and was determined to show Wolfwood his skill. The priest certainly didn't mind that.

The flickering of their bedside lamp brought the night to the end. It buzzed on and off like a dying star- Vash had a sullen look as he settled against his partner. At some point in the night, after Vash had fallen asleep, Wolfwood noted that the streetlights were also flickering. At least the few he could see through the grimey orange smog outside the hotel window. He'd brushed it off as being a hell of a powerful sandstorm, it wasn't until he was half-awake in the morning with a cup of black coffee that he made the connection. It was the plant. The power was failing, and Vash's knew it. Vash hadn't made any comment on it in the morning, and the toasters attempt on his life with karate-toast spitting made it clear that the plant was still functioning.

It made Wolfwood wonder a lot of things about his partner. Plants presumably died in a rather grizzly way, but he didn't know exactly what that had involved. It was enough to terrify Vash, Wolfwood had found that was no hard feat- Vash was pretty easy to scare. But if the plant were _dying_ … Would it be suffering? And, if Vash shared some bizarre link with his siblings, would it be possible that he felt it too?

"Your spacin' out again Wolfwood."

He blinked, and focused his attention on stirring his cooling coffee. It was still early morning, for Wolfwood at least, and this was the first cup he'd had for the day, he was still having trouble waking up. Vash looked as alert as a squirrel, how he managed to look so cheery in the early hours was a mystery to Wolfwood.

Vash had spent most of the morning buried under a mound of children in the sand. Wolfwood hadn't enjoyed waking up to find his bed empty- Vash had woken far earlier than him and quickly decided his partner was boring when he was asleep. He had waited for Wolfwood to wake, but Vash was an extremely impatient man. It wasn't long before he was bored, and squirming his way out of the iron grip Wolfwood held in his sleep. He was surprisingly clingy when unconscious- which was a bit of a contrast to the aloof, slightly awkward way he showed affection when he was awake. Except for in private. Wolfwood had no issue with being touchy in private.

Vash barely made it out of the hotel door before he was tackled by a herd of children. They weren't used to seeing travelers in this little speck of a town, barely visible on a map, and the kids felt it their duty to defend their home. Their plan started with an attempt to trip the two usurpers on their first day of being in town. Wolfwood would have none of their antics- the kids attempt to thwart the priest just got on his nerves and they quickly learned not to bother him.

The weird one in the red coat, however, he played along so perfectly that it was no longer about scaring the duo off, and the kids now simply enjoyed Vash's company. By throwing him into the sand.

His morning was spent at their mercy- being bossed around, giving piggybacks, and moving sand from one spot to another for no particular reason. He liked kids.

When Wolfwood found him, it took both their strength to get him away from the children. Vash wasn't keen to stop playing, and Wolfwood wasn't keen on being the one to stop it. The typhoon was having far too much fun, and the kids were enjoying it even more. But lethal toast was a poor type of fuel for Wolfwood, and eating alone was far worse than waking up alone. Vash's company was required, and now that he'd found the typhoon it was just a matter of finding an open restaurant.

The sandstorm had left a blanket of coarse yellow sand over the entire town, it had blocked gutters and flooded doorways, collected on the rooftops and filled the Thomas water troughs. Sand fell from folds of Vash's clothes every time he moved, but the kids were to blame for that. At least, that's what Wolfwood hoped. He could easily picture Vash playing in the sand on his own for the hell of it.

Every veranda looked like a suspended block of sand. Every table that had been left out had blown a few blocks down the street. Finding a restaurant that was serving food was near impossible. They managed to find a crappy looking place with its doors open, a few rough characters were already hanging around the bar. Upon sitting themselves at the least sand covered table in the joint, they realised that Wolfwood had only a few dollars left in his pockets and Vash was down to a few scraggly bills. It became the choice between meals for both of them or another night in their hotel, and neither of them decided on food. Wolfwood had talked Vash into buying him a coffee, though.

"What're we gunna do?"

A coffee that he'd let go almost entirely cold. He shrugged at Vash, which is a little difficult when leaning on a table. "Gotta figure something out or we're on the street, and I do _not_ want to sleep on a bench again, I never _had_ until I started travelling with you."

Vash smirked. "I don't believe that for a second, Nick. You don't even keep _track_ of your money. I spend all of mine but at least I know how much I have left."

"Here's an idea, how about we turn you in for the bounty on your head, and I bust your ass out of gaol after I get paid? At least, after a few days of you sittin' there…"

"Not rushin' to my aid straight away? I'm offended. Besides, I think we'll get a bit of unwanted attention that way."

"Well we've got to think of someway to get some cash."

With a showy sigh, Vash crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. Wolfwood considered offering him some coffee because it looked like he could easily fall asleep on the tabletop.

He was also tempted to start petting the typhoons hair. But even their little dimly lit corner of the restaurant, table wedged beneath a grimy window too aged to see clearly through, Wolfwood felt like a spotlight would shine on him the moment he dared to show any affection. Instead he used his fingertips to trace the shapes of all the buckles and straps on Vashs prosthetic arm.

He wondered, "Can you feel anything with this thing?"

"Not very well," Vash mumbled, he finally sounded like all his energy had been sapped. He was actually tired before lunchtime. "It works just like it's meant to, and I can feel it fine, but feeling _with_ it don't work so well."

"I ain't gunna ask how it works, or where you got it, it looks so damn convincing it's near alien."

Vash simply hummed in acknowledgement, he was sullen again. "I saw a poster 'n the other side of town, was for a job as a waiter. Would just need to work a couple days there and we'd be set for at least a week."  
"Good, you better apply then."  
"I don't like uniforms, Nick." The typhoon crossed his arms a little tighter. Wolfwood had certainly noticed that particular trait. Vash had an obvious dislike for any clothes that weren't his own. And the clothes he owned were very rarely removed, it took all of Wolfwoods arguing just to get Vash out of his trademark coat the night before. Somehow he was content with sleeping in his leather armor, straps, buckles, and all. He even wore his gloves. Wolfwood was pretty sure he had at least one bruise from all the buckles that jabbed into his skin when Vash slept against him.

"I don't like people, Vash."  
Vash gasped loudly, smirking over his arms. "What! You, priest Wolfwood, don't like people? But you're so nice and warm and cuddly to everyone, Nick!"

"Shaddup."

Lightning fast, Vash grabbed Wolfwoods arms and wrapped his own around the priests elbows, jerking him forwards until their faces were millimeters apart. A sly smile crept up Vashs face and he pressed his forehead against Wolfwoods. Yeah, there was that spotlight. Wolfwood felt so tense he was certain he looked like he was made of wood and rubber bands.

And in the middle of the restaurant, barely a few metres from a bar full of seedy looking gunslingers, Vash kissed him.

It was just a light kiss, and Vash was quick to pull away, wiping his lips on his glove and glaring at Wolfwood like he'd just insulted him. "Eugh, you taste like your crappy coffee."

The priest was still stiff as stone, looking at his partner in horror.

"Drink." He spat the word as he stood, grabbing the few discarded bills from the table before Vash could protest, and dashed to the bar.

Wolfwood admitted he wasn't the best at being affectionate in public. Flirtatious and dirty, with a woman at least, he could do that. Kissing Vash he was certainly happy to do. But dating a guy- and knowing he was meant to be a priest, too, even if he was a pretty poor one- still wasn't sitting very well with him. Kissing a guy in public was not on his list of things to do for the day.

There was a mangled cigarette in his jacket pocket and he quickly moved it to his teeth, biting hard and trying to avoid meeting any ones gaze. He wasn't sure if was staring at him, or if they'd even seen him, but he felt like they were glaring holes in his suit.

Engine cleaner was his drink of choice, and he curtly ordered a glass from the bartender. He was a short stubby man with a nose too small for his round face, and the glare from beneath his fat black eyebrows told the priest that he was leering at the little man from above. The bartender glanced at a man to Wolfwoods left, then took the bill and dawdled to a bottle of Wild Turkey.

"Hey pal,"

Wolfwood didn't turn to look at the man, he simply glared. His crooked cigarette clamped in his bared teeth.

The man had a dust-covered hat sitting lopsided on his head, a bushy mess of grey hair poking from beneath it. The frown on his face was lined perfectly by all his wrinkles, he'd obviously spent most of his life practicing that look.

"You some kind of faggot?"

Wolfwood wasn't sure if he'd helped to correct the mans crooked nose, but he knew it made him feel a lot better when he put his fist in it. He whacked the guy hard enough that he fell from his barstool. His friends were immediately on their feet but they sank back into their chairs when Wolfwood bared the handle of the pistol in his pocket. His cross was a pain to lug around, but situations like these reminded Wolfwood to at least carry some sort of weapon.

A bottle was placed on the counter and the barkeep gave the priest a very well practiced 'get the fuck out of here' glare. Wolfwood took the hint, swiped his bottle, and stomped back to his partner.

Vash just looked on like he was watching clouds, leaning on the table with his head propped up by one hand. His eyes followed Wolfwood until the man was standing over him, then with a sigh he rose out of his chair too and dawdled out the door after his partner.

"Y'know Nick, if you keep buying drinks we're not gunna have a bed to sleep in tonight."

Wolfwood was muttering to his matchbox angrily, trying to pick out one of the little wooden twigs. He didn't even bother acknowledging Vash. That whole ordeal was his fault, after all. The typhoon sighed dramatically again and began to saunter a few steps behind his storming partner. He wasn't really sure what to make of that whole scene- he'd learned the hard way that the wrong choice of words would quickly lead to violence with Wolfwood, but he still had the urge to lecture the priest for punching someone square in the face. From the blood oozing between the mans protective fingers it looked like there'd been some serious damage. Vash could never justify violence, and avoided it as much as he could. He hated being the source, did not like being the focus, and didn't want Wolfwood to be the cause.

Wolfwood finally struck a match, nearly tearing the little red head from it as it grazed the box. Vash knew to hold his tongue.

And Vash was suddenly aware of a presence approaching him from behind, he turned so quickly that his red coat billowed around him like a wave, and the lanky man tailing him nearly crashed straight into him.

The stranger cracked a crooked smile, there were so many teeth missing that it looked like he'd eaten a checkerboard. His coat was torn and fraying, and his eyes screamed the sort of wild that you'd only find from wandering the desert for a few years. Or a lot of gunfights.

Vash had a bad feeling.

Wolfwood had noticed his partners absence, he stomped onwards for a few paces hoping to encourage Vash to catch up- whenhe didn't, Wolfwood turned on his heels and stomped back, ready to give Vash an earful for simply being annoying. The man focused his smile on Wolfwood now, a smile that promised some sort of misfortune was coming his way.

"Heard you fellas were having money troubles."  
The pair exchanged a wary glance.  
"I think I can help you out."


End file.
